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She’s a beautiful woman with brown hair, tan skin, long legs, and perfect boobs. “Hi, Wynn, my name is Poppie. I like reading books when I’m not dying inside.” My jaw drops and Jericho snaps up in his chair.
“No negatives, please.” He writes something down on his chart and glares at Poppie before pointing to the next person.
He’s a handsome man with light-brown hair and a baseball cap. His eyes lock with mine. His grin is soft, so unlike Liam’s. I quickly avert my eyes; I’ve never been good at holding eye contact.
“Lanston Nevers. I like coffee and taking long naps, and I want to die.”
My eyes flick back up.
He’s still looking at me. My chest churns. Someone as beautiful as him wants to die? I want to know why. Does he have the same pit of dread within him that I do?
Jericho taps his feet angrily against the floor. “What did I just say? Do any of you have even a shred of respect for me?”
Lanston just smiles and shoots me a wink. My cheeks warm. Maybe Icanmake friends here.
I listen as everyone in the circle says their name followed by something they like. Everyone ignores Jericho’s rules, apparently finding his fury amusing. The vein in his forehead protrudes the entire ten minutes and I’m half certain he’ll stroke out if I join in on their fun.
I realize it’s silent for a few moments and look from side to side. Everyone stares at me with expectant eyes.
“Oh, uh, I’m Wynn Coldfox. I like…” I pause. That’s how it always goes, isn’t it? You’re sitting there thinking the entire time about what you’re going to say and then it’s your turn and you have no clue what you’re actually going to spew out. “I like drying flowers.”
At my side, Liam huffs with annoyance like my answer is stupid.
“I’m Liam Waters, your roommate.” He glares at me and a few others laugh. Jericho’s brows are still pulled together firmly. “I like pain. So don’t be afraid to bite my dick while you’re sucking it tonight.”
My head turns and our eyes meet. At first I think he’s joking, but there’s a silent promise in his dark eyes.
“Waters—veryinappropriate.” Jericho marks his chart, but everyone in the circle laughs. I mean, I heard people fucking in the shower earlier, so I’m not taking him too seriously either.
Liam shrugs and crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair.
“Why don’t we start with you today then, Waters? Since you seem so eager to talk.” Jericho taps on his clipboard with the end of his pen as he eyes Liam. They have to be close to the same age. What a hard job to perform, treating people your own age like children. Especially when it’s obvious no one here respects this man at all.
Liam puts his hands behind his head and looks at the ceiling. “I don’t have anything really to share today. I still like to hurt myself—still chasing the high of feeling alive. Nothing’s changed.”
Jericho watches him carefully. “And why do you think you relentlessly crave this feeling, Waters?”
Liam’s blue eyes flicker with pain. “Because it’s better than feeling nothing.”
I clench my hands in my hoodie pocket. It’s hard to hear others talk about their darkness. It hurts. But more than anything, I resonate with it.
The counselor nods and probes for more. “Do you find yourself using it as a form of self-punishment? When you feel you let others down?”
A weak, somber smile spreads across Liam’s lips and he looks back at Jericho with resolve flashing across his blue eyes. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then you aren’t trying to feel something, you’re trying to relieve your guilt by punishing yourself. You know this. Great job today, Liam.” Jericho flips the page in his notepad, his eyes locking with mine next. “Wynn, care to give it a try?”
I swallow hard. It’s really not something I like talking about. Not just the judgment that I’ve always faced, but there’s something about saying out loud the things that have only ever existed in my head. Almost as if once I actually speak it… it will become real.
Out in the world for everyone to see.
I shake my head and keep my eyes on the floor. The rain outside patters rhythmically against the windowpanes.
“That’s okay. Remington, go ahead.” He moves onto the girl to my left.
My breaths feel heavy. I tune out everything around me.
I’ve never been to a therapy circle before and the only people I’ve spoken to about all the shit inside my head are myself, my brother, and individual therapists. There are at least twenty people here… all of them listening and waiting for me to spill my soul out. The anxiety is too overwhelming.
